


To Love Somebody

by itsaquinnquinnsituation



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-28
Updated: 2014-12-28
Packaged: 2018-03-04 00:23:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2902577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsaquinnquinnsituation/pseuds/itsaquinnquinnsituation
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A thought, a discussion and an example of what the title could mean.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Love Somebody

**Author's Note:**

> This is a work of fiction and my characters, real or based off real people do not belong to me. I am not making any money off my work and do not intend to offend anyone or use my work for any purpose other than innocent entertainment.
> 
> This is my universe and exactly how I see it. Writing should be enjoyed, not judged.
> 
> This part comes after Leftovers and Liquid Silver, if you want to read those two bits, but it can also stand on its own as a one shot. It really does require a lot of reading in-between the lines, like all the rest of my stuff. 
> 
> For K :)

The mist was so thick that they could barely see some fifteen metres in front of them. It took Harry a little while to figure out the approximate location of the spot they were looking for – after all, the area was much closer to his hometown, than to Louis’. 

They walked very slowly. Louis had wanted to say something, but he was afraid – he wasn’t entirely sure if Harry had been so slow because of him or because he was lost in his thoughts – perhaps, of that one encounter so many years ago, - and so he allowed them to just walk in silence. Harry stopped at some point and motioned in the distance, indicating that the dock should be somewhere there. It’s not that the place has changed so much since – but even Harry had a hard time remembering after so many years. 

When they finally found what Harry claimed had to be the spot, they stood in silence and looked out onto the water. It was nothing special. It was nothing special back then as well – but for the very event that made it so special. There were several willow trees growing alongside the lake, drooping their branches down to the shallow water. There was much vegetation and tall grass, here and there crinkling under their feet, the path was uneven and barely trodden - as though nobody had cared to walk it since they did way back when - but then, it was probably because it was not much of a pretty area. Was it back then?

It was hard to say because, as Harry explained, things were different this time around. For once, it was much later in the year. They really did want to visit the lake after they’d found out what they now knew, and they should have wanted to do it in August, and to see how it has changed, only that didn’t happen, what with Louis’ thing, and then this and that, and before they knew it, it was already November. ‘Course, they could have just as well waited until the next year, but Louis begged him. There was no more reason *just then* for him to be scared any longer, but he, clearly, was not taking any chances. Harry was aware of that reasoning, of course, though Louis had never mentioned it, and it was precisely that, which had contributed to his somewhat demure demeanour just now. 

And the second issue was the mist. Way back when on that precious night, the sky had been entirely clear – that is how they were able to see the stars and the full moon. And now, it was completely covered with thick dense clouds. In fact, it was so overcast, that they’d had some light rain on their way down, and Harry was expecting it to resume any minute. Still, all Louis wanted was just this one thing, and so Harry had no choice but to oblige. 

And finally, it was cold. It was so cold, that Harry almost told him that he would be happy for them to get a motel and go in the early afternoon when the weather would be a bit warmer. But Louis would have none of it, and his blue eyes radiated so much pain and desperation, that Harry sighed and continued their trip. Louis had wanted it so bad, that all else was irrelevant. 

They stood on the shore of the lake for all of five minutes or so, and each was acutely aware of what the other was thinking. “You only get a moment like that once in your life.” How foolish could they have been to expect to have it again on a random trip to the lake some twelve years later? Yes, sure it was the same lake, and maybe it didn’t change much – but it was just a lake, just a body of water, nothing more. And for the other thing – they did change. They weren’t the boys they had been twelve years ago. 

Harry motioned and they both started walking in what Louis then realised to be the direction of the dock. Louis could not tell if Harry was disappointed with just the fact that seeing the location of their very first meeting was turning out to be so uneventful, or if the whole trip had just been too much. It was a long trip, it was cold and gray, and it was one of the busier weekends in Harry’s residency, but if they didn’t go then, they weren’t going to go at all that year – something Louis was not okay with. 

So as they were slowly making it to the dock – the approximate spot of their very first kiss – approximate because the kiss was technically under water right next to it, Louis’ brain was squirming with fear. Harry wasn’t talking much lately. He’d been a bit more nervous and a bit more zany than usual, and perhaps, it would not have been anything special – what with his brand new oncology residency at the George Washington hospital and all, but Louis had never really been in a relationship for this long – and with all that had earlier transpired, the realizations that were then made, he was wracking his brain as to the cause of Harry’s unrest. 

 

 

They’d already been living together when it happened – well, it happened some one and a half, almost two years in, and they had moved in together only three months after they met – well, when they met for the second time, that is. Louis had wanted for it to work so bad, that he was overly cautious about his behaviour – down to calling Zayn in the wee hours of the night to ask for advice on this or that – because, though Zayn had been living with his boyfriend, Liam, for not much longer than Louis had been with Harry, Zayn had much more common sense - and experience with long-term relationships. Not that Harry actually gave Louis any reason to be treading the line – Harry, after finishing medical school, had successfully secured a residency in the DMV area and was, for the most part, just very busy. Louis, though he’d gotten out of the clubbing and bar scene, still had no decent education, and so was earning what he could in the much calmer sphere of retail. When they finally had time to themselves, they enjoyed each other’s company very much, and Harry, as Louis surmised, was most likely completely oblivious to his worries. 

And then it happened. 

It’s not that Louis was not familiar with what leukemia was – he was, after all, he had dealt with it when he was a child – though mostly, when he was too young to understand it, - but he was entirely blindsided by its sudden return. He didn’t even believe it at first – reluctantly standing in a doctor’s office after Harry had spent two full evenings convincing him to go and get checked - but there it was. Invisible but all the same dangerous. 

He dreaded telling Harry. So he called Zayn first. Zayn became appropriately worried, but as for Louis’ fears, he asked:

“Well, what are you afraid of when it comes to him?”

“I don’t know” – Louis said, - “that I live at his place?”

“Yeah, and?” – Zayn was not getting it, - “It’s not like you chose to just…get it…”

“Yeah but…I’m… nobody to him – we’re not related.”

“You’re his boyfriend…? Lou… you all are…together.”

“It’s just…”- Louis could not explain it. He could not explain it even to himself, in fact. But he loosely shaped it into – ‘I am really not sure he would want to be dealing with this.’

But he did. Harry did, that is. After Louis finally gathered the guts to tell him, Harry didn’t even inquire if Louis’ mother or sisters would mind coming down to help – he single-handedly assumed the care of his boyfriend. He’d made some arrangements with his residency program – Louis didn’t ask – again mostly because of fear – his medical school stuff had been very important to Harry and so Louis assumed that to suspend it even temporarily had been a huge sacrifice. 

Neither of them knew what this was going to look like. Now, Louis had survived it before – it was nothing pleasant but it was doable and so he, perhaps, mistakenly was thinking that an adult person would have more strength to overcome it than a child. He even joked about it in the beginning – how strange it had been that the disease chose to return right after he’d completely quit alcohol – as if little toxic alcohol molecules in his blood were keeping the sick white blood cells from procreating. He even jokingly asked if he should start drinking again. Nobody really laughed. Least of all, Harry. 

But as much as Louis had told him in the beginning not to freak out with suspending his residency, Harry was right. Louis didn’t have to be at the hospital so much, however, he was in a stable but very weak state at home. He still didn’t think any of it to be serious – for him, it was just a ghost of the past – but that proved a misguided musing. At some point he was no longer able to leave the house – and then he’d try to keep Zayn on the phone every second that Harry could not be there, with their conversation going much the same way:

“He’d never kick you out, Lou, that’s ridiculous” – Zayn would say with almost a laugh, - “I don’t get why you are so obsessed with that thought. He did tell you he loved you, didn’t he?”

Oh he did, alright. Lou told him too. Harry didn’t usually say it so often, but that was just the way he was – and more often than not, he was just too busy. And Lou – well – Lou believed, he did believe that Harry was telling the truth, but there was just one little catch…

 

Louis couldn’t be sure he knew what love was, or what it meant – to love somebody. When he thought of himself and what he felt – that was easy – he wanted to be with Harry, he *liked* Harry, his seriousness, his maturity, his kindness, his gentle ways, his honesty, his ability to be strict when Louis deserved it – Harry had everything that worked so well with Louis’ personality, but what Louis felt for him could not with any certainty be held a definition of love. 

Louis tried to analyse what he did know about love. Well, there was the ‘I love you’s that he’d heard most frequently – in the past, during that part of his life that came right between the young Harry and the Harry now – the ‘I love you’s said in the heat of passion by random people in the night who would not even recognize him in the light of day. Those couldn’t compare, surely, because Harry could not be compared to any of those guys. 

Then there were the ‘I love you’s like Zayn’s ‘I love you’s. The ones that meant ‘you’re my best mate.’ Or perhaps even ‘you’re my best mate and I’ll give you this very last cigarette of mine.’ But that again could not be the same thing, because Louis loved Harry differently than he loved Zayn, and surely then, same had to be true for Harry. 

And then there was his mother. His mother that didn’t even come up to visit whilst he was home battling leukemia. She called – there was that. She did say she loved him, usually quickly, just before she said goodbye. She did that before, too. Like when he was young, when she’d be running out the door, fixing her high heels as she frantically looked for her keys, throwing: ‘Love you. You’ll be okay watching the girls tomorrow, too? I gotta know so I can tell (insert name of then-current boyfriend here).’ Louis loved her because she was his mother. She loved him… well, nobody can say for certain, why or how she loved him, but she only said she did when she was asking him for a favour. But she was family – and that mattered, right? Harry was almost family too, and so there had to be some similarities… or so Louis had come to be thinking. 

Back to the leukemia thing. Whilst Louis was worrying himself sick that Harry would one day tell him he’d had enough of Louis laying around his apartment, the thing had gained some momentum. He’d only finally noticed that something was really wrong when one day he could no longer get out of bed. And still he was not really worried until he had a good look at Harry’s eyes later that evening. 

Harry had been exceptionally tense. He had to do some stuff for the hospital in exchange for the suspended residency – though arguably not as much – but he was doing it on top of taking care of the house and taking Louis to his various appointments. He even had to borrow a friend’s car long-term just to be able to do that. He was also saying some stuff about swapping apartments with another friend who lived on the first floor – so Louis would have an easier time getting in and out – but Louis fought so vigorously with that idea that Harry had to abandon it. 

In any case, later that evening, Harry was spoon-feeding Louis some soup. He’d been very thoughtful to keep a bucket right next to them – because it was already his third attempt of trying to get Louis to keep down some food – which was all mostly water anyway – and Harry was going real slow and careful. Louis had a really hard time even opening his mouth at that point – he barely talked, barely moved his arms – and in one such moment, when Harry had put down the spoon, their eyes connected. And Louis suddenly understood what he’d been seeing in them all along. Something he could not see before because he did not know to look for it. And then he got really frightened. Because what he saw in Harry’s green eyes was fear. 

And then they lay side by side in the night – Louis in his armchair, Harry – on the couch, which he’d positioned right by Louis, and Louis had his eyes open the entire night. He mulled it over in his brain ad nauseum and he almost chastised himself for not understanding it before – whilst he, Louis, had been worrying about Harry leaving him, he, Harry, had been terrified of a completely different thing… 

Because Harry loved him.

And just like that, Louis became terrified also. But as his doctor would later tell him, the old expression of the darkest hour coming just before the dawn must really be true, because almost exactly after that night, Louis began to get the upper hand on his illness. Harry was taking his boyfriend’s gradual recovery with great caution, almost waiting for a sudden regression again, but it didn’t happen, thankfully, and when Louis had finally collected his previous strength back, he… interestingly, he found himself wanting desperately to go visit that lake. 

He didn’t really know why, he just did.

Maybe he was a bit nostalgic for that much happier moment, all those years back, when he still had all his life in front of him. When both Harry and he were just innocent late-teens. Before he got involved in Washington’s club scene. Before Harry had to scoop him off of a dirty sidewalk and almost immediately decide to keep him. Before Harry had to spoon-feed him. Before he saw that bleeding terror in Harry’s eyes. 

 

 

They sat side by side on the dock. Harry, the taller one of the two, had placed his feet onto the water. Louis was just looking down. It had started to sprinkle, but neither had made a motion to get up. Louis didn’t know if he expected their coming to the lake to be a happy moment, but so far it was not turning out to be. Harry was extremely quiet. This place meant so much to both of them, that it was hardly a surprise that Harry had loads to think about. But, suddenly, he turned.

“Lou” – He said, nervously shuffling to fold his legs underneath him. Louis had mirrored him in that, - “There’s something I want to tell you… or rather, ask you… I’ve been wanting to for some time because…. Some things happened and… Uh… though, I was thinking even before all that, but then… and… and… it’s not that…. I wouldn’t want you to think that it would be for any practical reason but… but… since we’re here… since we… we’re at the place… of… sort of… of our…. our….” – his voice cracked and his hands shook so much, that Louis spared him the trouble.

He leaned forward and touched his hand:

“Yes. I will. I would. Or I would be. Yes.”

Harry looked at him, unblinking at first, eyes wide and mouth open, but Louis nodded as if to underscore his reply. And suddenly Harry’s lips stretched in a smile as he almost lunged at his boyfriend. 

That was the first real smile that Harry has given him since his illness. And now it was kind of all over him, because Harry was almost choking him in a hug, laughing, stopping to kiss his cheek, his ear, to ruffle his hair, and Louis was laughing too, and just like that, it was not a cold rainy night anymore, it was an enchanted, quiet, mysterious, misty evening…

They were walking back to the car at a very fast pace. Harry was almost running, dragging Louis by the hand. Louis was barely keeping up, but it wasn’t because he was weak – or he was – but not from any illness – but rather, because his knees were almost giving out from… from whatever it was! - shock, euphoria, disbelief, feeling of suddenly having grown white angel wings, and all – everything around them – had suddenly acquired a brand new, indescribable quality. And Louis really did want to maybe enjoy it just a little bit more, but he wasn’t about to tell Harry, who was in no condition to even notice it. 

At the car they did stop though – that is, Harry, apparently, just couldn’t hold off any longer – so he pushed Louis against the driver side door – and kissed him until Louis also forgot to think about the rain and the cold weather. 

And when he reluctantly had to let go, Harry asked:

“So… how did you know?”

“What?”

“What I was going to ask when I… when I… kind of… stumbled?”

“Because I wanted to ask you exactly the same question.”

Harry covered his face briefly with his hand, whimpered, and then placed it back around Louis’ neck:

“I was so nervous. I thought if maybe I should have made it… you know… all proper… with… with the…”

“No. No, you know I’m not into all that. That was just right.”

Harry laughed and shook his head:

“Maybe I should have just let you do it. I’m not very good at these things sometimes. What would you have said?”

“You want me – you want me to *ask* you?”

“No - no, I… I’m just curious as to how you would have phrased it.”

“Oh” – Louis smiled, - “Well, I would have said something…. Something along the lines of – since we were at the site of me being your very first kiss, and you being mine, I would have asked if you would want to – in spite of what last year would have you believe – some *many* years from now – if you would also mind being my last.”

“Yeah…” – Harry whispered through a smile, - “Yeah… I’d want that very very much…” – and then he kissed Louis again, in the mist and the rain, in the cold November night on the dirt road next to a rented car – and goddamn if that moment was any less special than the one they had at the lake some twelve years ago, because there’s absolutely no law, absolutely no certainty, with which you should say that you can only have such a moment just once in your life, because you can have many – as many as you yourself care to create – as long as you really – as long as you truly – as long you with your whole soul – choose to do that.

 

To love somebody.


End file.
